


Mating Dance

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 02:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: Harry gets dance lessons.





	Mating Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/gifts).



> **A/N:** Written for the lovely lq_traintracks, and originally posted at her gift community, lqttlove. 
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Mating Dance

~

When Draco walks in, Pansy spots him immediately and waves him over. “There you are,” she says. “I knew you’d come running when I told you who was here.” Looking him up and down, she raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you look official.” 

“I was at work.” Draco looks around. “Where is he?”

“This way.” Sashaying in her satin robe, Pansy clasps his arm. “Walk with me.” 

Rolling his eyes, Draco nevertheless allows Pansy to lead him. “It looks like a dungeon in here,” he grumbles.

Pansy hums. “Of course it does. No one wants to be reminded that there’s a real world out there, darling. People come here to escape. You can’t do that if you can tell the passage to time. You’ll notice we’ve no clocks either.” 

Draco scowls. “And you’re sure it’s Harry?” he asks. “A whorehouse isn’t his scene.” 

Pansy smirks. “What are you talking about? Whorehouses are illegal, darling. I run a private club, remember?” 

“Whatever.” 

Laughing, Pansy leans in. “Some of my employees may do…freelance work, but that’s not my business. Anyway, when your Potter walked in, bold as you please, and asked for one of my best, I thought, what use would he have for a…dancer? And Crystal’s quite popular. Maybe he's not as gay as you thought?” 

Draco snorts, aware of the people turning away to hide their faces as his Auror robes sweep by. This isn’t the sort of place Aurors are supposed to frequent, but he’s not naive enough to think it doesn’t ever happen. Then again, Wizarding world saviours shouldn’t be in dodgy private clubs cum whorehouses either. 

“Crystal teaches through there,” says Pansy, releasing his arm as they come up to a door. “Oh, and if you end up back on the market after this, do let me know.” Blowing him a kiss, Pansy turns and slinks away. 

Squaring his shoulders, Draco pushes the door open, closing it softly behind him. He walks in, moves around a corner, and blinks. Harry, his Harry, is facing a mirror and…dancing? 

At least they’re not naked, Draco thinks. About to stalk forward, he pauses when the woman, whose back is also turned to the door, speaks. She’s petite, with a slight French accent. 

“Try to move your hips like this,” she says, executing a practiced move. 

As Draco watches, Harry manages a creditable imitation. What the fuck? Is Harry actually taking dance lessons with this whore? 

“’M not sure I can make m’hips do that, Crystal,” Harry says, words slurring. “Looks all right when you do it, but I look a right berk.” 

“You say you want to drive your man, this Draco, wild, no?” The woman smiles and shimmies her hips. “He will not be able to resist if you dance like this for him. You will have a very good anniversary if you do this.” 

Draco, eyebrow raised, leans against the wall and watches, his previous anger gone. Far from looking like a berk, Harry’s pretty appealing. And he’s always adorable when he’s been drinking. Draco licks his lips.

Harry tries to undulate his hips and ends up almost falling over. He stops himself just in time and sighs. “Maybe I should’ve tried this sober.” 

“I find a little wine loosens the limbs,” Crystal says. She obviously senses something, because she looks back over her shoulder, spotting Draco. Alarm flares in her eyes, but when Draco simply raises an eyebrow, her eyes narrow. “Your Draco,” she says. “He is an Auror?” 

“Yes.” Harry’s still trying to shimmy. 

“And…very blond?” 

“Yep.” Harry looks at her. “How did you know?” 

“I am a good guesser.” Crystal purses her lips. “Why don’t you stay and practise and I shall…check on something.” 

As Harry nods and goes back to practising, Crystal walks towards Draco. “He intended to surprise you,” she whispers as she gets close. 

Draco smirks. “He’s succeeded.” 

“He wants to dance for you for your anniversary. Evidently, you are a good dancer?”

Draco hums, thinking back to the night about a year ago when he first seduced Harry in a club. “I’m…decent.” 

“Then _you_ teach him.” Crystal smirks. “The room is reserved for another hour. There is…time.” 

“Are you suggesting something improper, madam?” Draco murmurs in French. 

Crystal moves towards the door, a slight smirk on her face. “Mon dieu, Auror. Jamais. Never.” 

Once she’s gone, Draco slips off his Auror robes, hanging it up on a peg. Undoing the buttons on his shirtsleeves, he rolls them up, moving towards Harry, who’s still checking himself in the mirror as he tries to rotate his hips. He does a double take when he sees Draco’s reflection. 

“Draco!” Spinning, Harry looks him up and down. “W…what are you doing here?” 

“Teaching you how to dance,” Draco says, stepping closer. Placing his hands on Harry’s hips, he stares into his eyes. “Ready to learn?”

“But…” Harry sighs as Draco fits their hips together and begins to move. His breath smells like wine and chocolate. “Am I dreamin’ you?”

“You’re not that drunk, are you?” asks Draco, steering him backwards until Harry’s back hits the wall.

Harry winds his arms around Draco’s neck and smiles. “Don’t think so.” 

“Good,” murmurs Draco, kissing him. 

Harry _is_ drunk. Or at least he acts the way he does when drunk. He mewls into Draco’s mouth, arching his body against Draco’s. 

Pressing closer, Draco all but devours him before pulling back to nip at his mouth. When Draco bends his head and drags his teeth along Harry’s neck, Harry shivers, his body going loose and pliant, and when Draco pulls out his cock, Harry’s soft whimpers goad him on. 

All thoughts of dancing forgotten, Draco frees his own cock, and with one hand strokes them both together, even as he kisses Harry again and again. 

Harry’s hands cling to Draco’s back as they rock together, and it’s not long before they’re both coming, Harry crying out, throwing his head back as shudders wrack his body, and Draco gasping as pleasure washes over him. 

“That wasn’t dancing,” Harry whispers into the crook of Draco’s neck. 

Draco laughs. “It’s as close as I can get with you. As I recall, we had this problem the last time we tried to dance, too.” 

“We ended up in bed, yeah.” Harry sighs. “So I wasted my money paying Crystal to teach me?” 

“Oh,” murmurs Draco, “I wouldn’t call it all a waste. I believe we still have the room reserved for a while.” 

“Then we shouldn’t let it go to waste,” says Harry.

“Trust me, we won’t,” Draco assures him. And they don’t.

~


End file.
